


But You Do

by dsa_archivist



Category: due South
Genre: Drama, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-04-01
Updated: 1999-04-01
Packaged: 2018-11-11 05:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11142003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dsa_archivist/pseuds/dsa_archivist
Summary: Ray must rescue Fraser from peril...





	But You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Speranza, the archivist: this story was once archived at [Due South Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Due_South_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Due South Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/duesoutharchive).

But You Do
    
    
     All DS characters belong to Alliance, etc....
    
    
    
    # *But you do*
    
    
    by Shinz Wong
    
    Ray slumped against the wheel of the Riv and watched his brother-in-law
    Tony waddle down from the front porch with a gigantic  loaded garbage
    bag on his way to the black bin by the side of the road.  The end product
    of three decades of endless fettuccine alfredos, manicottis, gnocchis,
    matambres, fusillis, tiramisus, biscottis, and various Mars and Snickers
    bars in between meals now unfolded in  a very remarkable little drama
    that played itself out in front of the exhausted detective.   Tony looked
    like he was dragging a very large and stubborn animal down the path to
    the garbage bin. He was fighting the bag with all his might, panting
    and wheezing as he dragged the bag toward its temporary resting place.
    About halfway to his destination he stopped, kicked the bag into a totally
    different shape, moved to the back of the bag and started pushing it.
    Half a minute later he adjusted himself to the front of the bag and started
    to pull it.  Tony performed these strategic maneuvers four times before
    finally arriving at the garbage bin.  And then the real challenge:  heaving
    the bag into the bin.  Tony stopped, glared at the bag for a whole minute,
    his chest heaving violently.  Even from  twenty five feet away Ray could
    see the streams of perspiration cascading down his face.  Tony continued
    staring at the bag as if it was one of life's greatest mysteries, even
    remembering to kick the mystery every now and then for good measure.
    
    Ray was too tired to feel disgusted and just wished he hadn't been a
    witness to the scene at all.  It put him in an awkward position as Tony
    would soon see him and inevitably ask him to help.  He could always start
    the engine and drive off as soon as Tony opened his mouth but all he
    wanted right now was to crawl upstairs and go to sleep.   He had been
    in the field all day investigating an armed robbery of a grocery store
    in one of Chicago's seediest neighborhoods.  The owner was screaming
    for the robbers' blood when he had arrived on the scene to find a prostrate
    old man on the floor.   The owner's 93 year old father had died of massive
    heart failure after the robbery as a result of the shock.  Paramedics
    were soon rushing about the small store.  Ray couldn't make head or tale
    of the emotional outbursts of the owner and while there were several
    eyewitnesses, they gave the usual conflicting accounts of what they saw,
    either out of fear or just pure confusion.  Ray had been canvassing the
    neighborhood all day as everything pointed to the robbers' familiarity
    with the area.     It was an average crime with a messy aftermath, a
    lot of time wasted with very little results, a hectic and almost mindless
    day.  After eight hours on his feet Ray decided that the report could
    damn well wait till tomorrow and drove straight home from the investigation.
    
    "Ray!"  Tony had just spotted him.  "Aren't you home a little early today?"
    
    Ray scowled darkly.  "Yeah, I'm happy to see you too, Tony."  He got
    out of the Riv grudgingly and walked over to the garbage bag.  Tony nodded
    at the culprit and shrugged at it.  Ray took hold of one side of the
    bag fully expecting Tony to grab on to the other side.  However, Tony
    just looked at him then turned around and walked back to the house. 
    Ray swore 
    belligerently and yelled.
    
    "Hey man!!!  What's the matter with you?!?"
    
    But Tony had already disappeared into the house.
    
    Ray felt rage shoot up his throat and used more than the necessary strength
    to lift and dump the bag into the bin.  The bag protested the roughness
    by tearing open and spilling half its contents onto the pavement.  Ray
    stood silently and stared at the empty cans, rotten vegetables, candy
    wrappers and numerous unidentified objects before finally sighing in
    defeat.  He crouched down, picked every item up and discarded it into
    the bin.  As he straightened up, he felt and heard his back creak sadly.
    
    "You're getting old, Ray."  He told himself and for the first time that
    day, a smile crept to his lips.  He stretched and swiveled his neck to
    relax his tense muscles, then walked slowly up to his front porch.  His
    nephew rushed out of the front door onto the porch yelling "Uncle Ray!"
    and leapt straight into his arms.
    
    "Whoa there!  Whoa! Whoa!"  Ray grabbed the boy who had latched onto
    his coat and was jumping up and down energetically. "Let go of my coat."
    
    "Uncle Ray!  I want to be a policeman like you."
    
    "We'll talk about it in another ten years okay?  Come to think of it,
    you can come wake me up in another ten years."
    
    The boy refused to let go of Ray's coat and continued talking and jumping
    up and down excitedly. 
     "What's the police station like?  Do you use your gun often?  How many
    guys have you whacked?"  
    
    Ray sighed exasperatedly and proceeded to loosen the boy's fingers one
    by one.  After a few futile moments, Ray was saved by his cellular phone's
    ring from inside his coat.  His nephew finally decided that it was a
    good time to release him and stood back to watch Ray take the call.
    
    "Vecchio."
    
    "Ray?"
    
    "What do you want, Frasier?"
    
    "I, well perhaps I'd better...to be frank, I..."
    
    "What's wrong, Frasier?  Are you okay?"
    
    "If you put it that way...in a sense, no...no, I'm not."
    
    Ray was immediately alert and began thinking about the worst possibilities.
    Fraser didn't sound hurt so he was probably physically uninjured.  Ray
    thought about the other times Fraser had made an emergency call to his
    cell phone and the RCMP Musical Ride hijacking sprang  instantly to his
    mind.. 
    
    "Are you hurt?"
    
    "No, I am fine.  Quite well actually."
    
    Ray could hear whispering in the background on the other side of the
    line.  Low, sinister sounding whispers.  There were other people with
    Fraser. 
    
    "Can you talk freely?"
    
    Fraser seemed to ponder this question briefly as the whispering in the
    background intensified.  Ray looked at his nephew who calmly returned
    his gaze.  Ray didn't want to alarm his nephew who might squeal to his
    grandmother subsequently plunging the whole household  into an uproar
    if the Vecchios found out that their Mountie was in trouble.  Ray gestured
    urgently for the boy to go into the house.  His nephew merely looked
    at him and obstinately refused to be obedient.
    
    "As a matter of fact, no, Ray.  The people here with me have given me
    instructions on what to say.  I'm supposed to follow them."
    
    "Okay, Benny.  Listen to me.  They don't have to know what I am saying
    to you.  So just say yes or no when I ask you something."
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "Tell me what they want you to say, Frasier."
    
    "They want...you to come to where they are...where I am."
    
    "Where are you?"
    
    "I'm not allowed to convey that information."
    
    "So how am I supposed to come to them?  Wait a minute, are you being
    held at your apartment?"
    
    Ray was slightly perplexed at the hesitant way that Fraser was speaking
    to him.  It wasn't  like the Mountie to be nervous in a tense situation.
    What was the matter with his Canadian friend?  Ray suddenly had images
    of Victoria Metcalfe  in front of his eyes.  The woman could be holding
    a gun to Fraser's temple as they speak.  She and her henchmen could be
    listening in on their conversation.
    
    "I'm coming to your apartment, Benny.  Hang on."
    
    "They...say to come alone, Ray."
    
    Ray leapt over the railing on his front porch and sprinted for the Riv.
    He jumped in, fired the engine and reversed the car quickly down the
    driveway.  His nephew stared at his antics nonchalantly and turned back
    into the house.  Ray made it to Benton Fraser's apartment in record time.
    As he walked up the staircase, he pulled out his gun and held it at ready.
    At Fraser's door, he put his ear to the panel and listened.  All was
    quiet within and then, Ray heard a whimper.  Without another thought,
    Ray twisted the door knob which yielded uneventfully.  He moved swiftly
    and quietly into the darkened apartment with his gun outstretched, ready
    to shoot at the slightest unwelcome movement.  Something white came straight
    at him and Ray stepped back hurriedly, pointing his gun at the unfocused,
    white object.  The white blur jumped up at Ray and started whimpering.
    
    "Dief!  Get down, Dief!"
    
    Diefenbaker was apparently overjoyed to see him and left several paw
    imprints on Ray's coat as evidence of his glee.  Finally, the wolf sat
    back, lolling his tongue and looking at Ray.
    
    "Where's Frasier, boy?"  Dief grinned at Ray and said nothing.  Ray flipped
    the light switch, the light came on and Fraser's apartment looked immaculate
    as usual.  No signs of a struggle or blood.  Ray looked around him in
    frustration.  Now what?  His cell phone buzzed from within his coat.
    Ray pocketed his gun and quickly flipped the phone open.
    
    "Frasier?"
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "Are you okay?  Where are you?  I'm at your apartment right now." 
    
    "I'm fine but they want you to...come to the highest point in Chicago,
    Ray." 
    
    "Who are they, Benny?  Who are the sons of bitches who are holding you
    and what do they want?"
    
    "I really can't say.  They have given me explicit instructions not to
    reveal their identities."
    
    "Okay, Benny.  I'll be there right away."
    
    "Another thing, Ray.  No police."
    
    "&$@* them!  They're taking me for a ride.  Just stay cool, Benny.  I'll
    find you."
    
    Ray took Diefenbaker along with him hoping that the wolf might somehow
    come in handy.  The drive into downtown felt excruciatingly long to Ray
    as different scenarios presented themselves to him.  He could find Fraser
    dead or badly injured at the end of the line.  The most frustrating thing
    was he didn't know what exactly he was walking into.  He rode the elevator
    up Sears Tower to the observation deck, feeling an uncomfortable sheen
    of sweat on his palms.  The doors glided open to reveal the usual tourists
    with their noses pressed to the glass.  No Fraser.  No suspicious looking
    persons.  No one came up to Ray.  He debated showing his badge and asking
    the people who were milling around if they had seen anything strange
    but concluded that it probably wouldn't be a very good idea.  Ray flipped
    open his cell phone and dialed the number on  Jack Huey's desk back at
    the precinct.  He might as well rally together some unofficial backup
    if this turned out to be an extended search and rescue mission.
    
    "27th precinct.  Detective Huey's desk."  A woman answered the call.
    
    "This is Vecchio.  Let me talk to Jack."
    
    "Huey's not here.  Staff sergeant says he's gone for the day."
    
    "Put Elaine on then."
    
    "She's taken half the day off."
    
    "Is the Lieutenant there?"
    
    "Sorry, he's gone too."
    
    "Great, this is just what I need.  A real situation and half the Chicago
    PD decides to take the day off."
    
    Ray decided to call Fraser's office.  Perhaps Inspector Thatcher would
    know something about this.  
    
    Constable Turnbull answered his call.  "Good evening, you have reached
    the Canadian Consulate.  If you only speak French, I am afraid you will
    have to call back tomorrow.  If you would like to speak in English, I
    can be of assistance."
    
    "Is Inspector Thatcher there?"
    
    "No, I am afraid the Inspector is not in.  Would you like to speak to
    her deputy?"
    
    "You mean Frasier's there?"
    
    "No, I'm afraid Constable Fraser is not in either.  Would you like to
    speak to his deputy, sir?  If you would, you will be speaking to me.
    I am *his* deputy, sir, and he's her's."
    
    Ray shut off the phone with murder in his eyes but before he could replace
    it in his coat, it started ringing again. 
    
    "Benny?"
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "What are they saying now?"
    
    "Chinatown, Ray.  You are to go to a shop called "Huang Zhi's Bakery"."
    
    "What am I supposed to find there?  What am I supposed to do there? 
    Damn it, Benny, can't you tell me anything?"
    
    "They gave me very specific instructions, Ray."
    
    "Let me talk to their leader."
    
    "I'm afraid that's not possible.  She's very firm about not wanting to
    talk to you right now."
    
    Ray jumped at the "she".  Victoria!     "I knew it!  It's her, isn't
    it?  She's back, isn't she?  Damn it!"  He knew Victoria Metcalfe hated
    his guts.  He knew she wouldn't let up on a chance to kill him if she
    could.  If he had a mortal enemy, it would have to be Victoria.
    
    "Ray...just go."
    
    Ray and Diefenbaker drove frantically to Chinatown.  He found the bakery
    quiet and almost deserted.  The old baker was sitting behind the counter
    reading a Chinese newspaper and hardly glanced up when he entered the
    shop.  Ray went up to him and asked  if he had seen anything out of the
    ordinary.  The old man gestured a few times, muttered some phrases in
    Chinese and resumed his reading.  Ray looked at the baked goods in the
    glass counter and made a pact to appease his growling stomach by buying
    two red bean paste buns.  There was a round table and a few chairs and
    Ray sank down into one of them, eating the buns while looking out into
    the street through the window.  To him, the buns were tasteless although
    to anyone less worried than Ray was at that moment, they would have tasted
    a little on the salty side as the baker's apprentice neglected to rinse
    out the mixing bowl that morning after preparing the batter for salty
    sesame pancakes.   It was nine o'clock and almost two hours since that
    first phone call from Fraser.  A wild goose chase.  Ray put his elbows
    on the table and waited tiredly for the phone to ring again.  Ten minutes
    later, it did.
    
    "Frasier?"
    
    "Yes, Ray."
    
    "Where do I go now?  If they give me one more blind lead, I'm gonna call
    for backup."
    
    "They want you to go home, Ray."
    
    Ray turned deathly cold and his throat became torturously dry.  His home,
    they were in his home.  They had been throwing red herrings at him so
    that they could get to his home.  Ray cursed himself and pounded one
    fist on the table.  He drew a deep breath and said quietly.
    
    "All right.  I'm coming home. Tell them not to hurt anyone."
    
    Ray's hands were shaking slightly as he walked up to his porch with Diefenbaker.
    The porch light was on but the house was quiet, too quiet.  Dief bounded
    enthusiastically through the open door ahead of Ray and the next thing
    that Ray heard was a sharp yelp from the wolf.  Then, there was no more
    sound.  Ray drew his gun.   "Please, God.  Don't let anything happen
    to them.  Please, God."
    
    The house was all dark inside and Ray entered cautiously with his gun
    held at ready.  He quietly flipped the light switch in the hall and was
    greeted by a chorus of shrieks.  The flood of light blinded him momentarily
    and he heard his sister Maria yell.  "Put the gun down, Ray.  Are you
    nuts?  Put it down.  The kids are here."
    
    This was followed by a deathly silence while Ray blinked uncertainly.
    
                                            "SURPRISE!!!!"
    
    When Ray opened his eyes, the first person he saw was his ex-wife, Angie
    and the second, his mother who rushed up to him and engulfed him in a
    bear hug, gun and all.
    
    "Ramondo, Ramondo!  Mi bambino!  Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" 
    
    With his head on her shoulder, Ray saw Jack Huey, Elaine Besbriss, Lieutenant
    Welsh and half the personnel from his department grinning and raising
    their glasses to him.  Francesca, Maria, his nephews and nieces all crowded
    around him trying to hug the parts of him that weren't already in his
    mother's embrace.  Ray's jaw dropped  slowly as he spotted Fraser standing
    by a window, with Dief by his side, smiling a little sheepishly at him.
    Many of Fraser's neighbors were there too and so were some of the people
    he and Fraser had gotten to know over the past two years.  Even Margaret
    Thatcher was there, standing near Fraser, seeping his mother's special
    punch.  She smiled at him warmly and nodded.  Ray went around the room
    shaking hands and accepting gifts.  Altogether there were more than fifty
    people celebrating Raymond Vecchio's birthday with him.   When he finally
    got to Fraser, the Mountie looked like he wanted to sink through the
    floor.  Ray looked at his best friend, smiled and slowly shook his head.
    
    "Benny."
    
    "I was coerced, Ray.  You came home early and we weren't entirely prepared.
    Tony came in and told us you were about to enter the house so Maria sent
    your nephew to intercept you.  Then, your mother told me to call you
    on your cell phone.  I wasn't exactly sure what to say but she said that
    you would believe me more than anyone else...."
    
    "She's right.  I wouldn't have believed anyone else.  Never expected
    you'd try anything like that on me."
    
    "I wasn't attempting to deceive you, Ray.  We needed two hours and well...one
    thing led to another..."
    
    Ray smiled again and patted Fraser's shoulder.  "It's okay, Benny.  Were
    you here all day helping out?"
    
    Fraser nodded and pointed at the stretches of colorful crepe ribbons
    that were strung from one corner of the ceiling to another.  Ray followed
    his finger up to them and felt a lump materialize in his throat. He had
    forgotten about his own birthday, no, he actually remembered it for a
    fleeting second after picking up the garbage from the split bag but that
    was it.  Just that second.  He looked at Fraser, his grayish green eyes
    clouding over with gratitude.
    
    "This is great, Benny.  I've never had a surprise birthday party before.
    Never thought I had enough friends for one."
    
    Fraser looked earnestly at his best friend.  "But you do, Ray."
    
                                             DONE
    
    

* * *


End file.
